


The Flying City (OLD VERSION)

by InfoChan



Series: The Flying City [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Au Starscream, Based off a prompt I found on the internet, Canon What Canon, Continuity is fucked, Everyone Is Gay, Help, It grew, M/M, Mainly my headcannons, Post-War, Starscream is an angry cat, Vos - Freeform, expect the unexpected, it’s Weird, this is why i can't have nice things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 09:37:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17937332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfoChan/pseuds/InfoChan
Summary: To many, the city of Vos simply does not exist. It is an impossibility that many grounders never get to see. A city reserved solely for Seekers and their flying brethren could have never existed. Seekers were war builds after all, how could they run a city? Vos was simply a myth from ancient texts, dismissed with barely a second thought. However, a few grounds were once allowed to live in the flying cities, considered as honourary Vosians. These few will never share their secrets. - Rest of the descriptions in the story-





	1. Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> To many, the city of Vos simply does not exist. It is an impossibility that many grounders never get to see. A city reserved solely for Seekers and their flying brethren could have never existed. Seekers were war builds after all, how could they run a city? Vos was simply a myth from ancient texts, dismissed with barely a second thought. However, a few grounds were once allowed to live in the flying cities, considered as honourary Vosians. These few will never share their secrets however, not before the war broke out, not during it, and certainly not after. Until one event puts the entire population at risk and only a few grounders manage to escape the fallout, the rest of the citizens evacuated to Primus knows where.
> 
> Starscream was a mech that nobody seemed to take seriously. The SIC of the Decepticon army a laughingstock to all who knew of him. It was hard to be afraid of a mech who messed up at every turn. Then after the war's end, with the seeker locked away awaiting judgment with the rest of the Decepticons, a discovery changes all of that. Suddenly the Autobots find themselves chasing a ghost, following the clues and legends of a city long forgotten to answer just one question.  
> Who is Starscream, the Seeker Without A Trine?

Once there was a city, one that flew in the sky. ' _Impossible_ ’’, Grounders say, ‘ _Cities can’t fly!_ ’’.Yet despite all that, there was once a city that stood, or rather flew, high in the sky; not even a trained eye could see it. An invisible city was always just out of view, something straight out of the legends – like the original thirteen Primes.

A few tried to call out the myth, calling it _‘scientifically impossible’_ and _‘something made up by the Praxians’_ as many believed those in Praxus felt higher than everyone else. After all, according to the Praxians, ‘ _Iacon did it first, Praxus did it better_ ’.So it wasn’t hard to say that their assumption was unfounded. So many Cybertronians left it at that, not bothering to question if it were true. Even if myths often had a basis in reality.

But the Praxians weren’t lying, not in the slightest. Citizens of Praxus may have been seen as having a certain amount of ego but they weren’t lying, not about this. Yet, knowing Grounders and their lack of understanding of anything seeker, the city was kept hidden. Praxians learned to not speak of it, Seekers learned to divert attention if it was ever brought up, and the idea of the myth being a reality slowly faded away.

Just because the myth was forgotten didn't mean the city was gone. Praxus was still aware of the city's existence and its camouflage. It was a secret shared to all Praxians at a young age; they were taught to never share it with anyone other than a Praxian. Centuries of secrecy weighed on the city. Praxus turned into a marvelous tourism city where many mechs came to gaze at the crystal gardens and marveled at the mysterious aura that the city seemed to hold.

As the years went on, the defenses surrounding Vos’s existence became stronger. The visual disruptors surrounding the city were strengthened and upgraded, fed by Cybertron’s core. Antigravity generators keeping the city aloft were modified and changed. Whenever a non-flier came near the city, it could shift out of the way. Fliers unconsciously changed their routes, missing the city’s borderline and continuing as though nothing had happened.

All those who lived on the ground outside of Paraxian borders remained blissfully unaware of Vos while the citizens of Vos lived peacefully in the sky. Few grounders actually lived in the city, only flightless seekers and the occasional praxian. Those few who were raised in the city were also raised by their ideals. The idea that the needs of others should be held above one's own needs, a remnant of a seeker's instinctual need to keep their trine happy.

When the whispers of war first started to arise and Megatron started to gather his Decepticons, Vos wasn’t all that affected. The secrecy of the city kept it safe. Sadly, that did not mean the seekers who endeavored to become something outside the city walls were so lucky. When the Autobot guard started to beat back the resistance, sometimes literally, the seekers were caught in the crossfire.

Continued beatings against innocent seekers and warbuilds only strengthened the city’s resolve to protect their own. Only select warbuilds and fliers were trusted with the city’s location by the seekers. The citizens of Vos eagerly opened their gates to those few that they felt they could offer sanctuary. It was around this time that whispers of Vos sparked up again, only to be smothered by the outbreak of a bloody civil war.

Suddenly, the planet’s surface was in turmoil with Autobots and Decepticons fighting viciously against the other. Many seekers tried to stay out of it, as many of the problems the two factions were fighting over did not affect their city. But the continued assault on innocent mechs drove them to join the Decepticons, enthralled by Megatron’s promise of a swift end to the bloodshed and protection from the then vicious Autobots. An end that did not come.

Then, Praxus fell. Decepticons tore apart the city and began to raize the ground beneath its remains, extinguishing any spark they could find no matter the frame. Out of the thousands of mechs living in Praxus at the time, barely a hundred survived the first assault. Out of those who did, many fled. Quickly joining their brethren in Vos before the Autobots were even aware of their survival, Seekers saved many who were thought to have died. They disappeared back to Vos with as many survivors as they could carry. By the time they came back for a second wave, the remaining praxians were already with the Autobots.

By this point, many Vosians felt uncomfortable with the security of their city. Praxus was no longer around to provide the much-needed energy to keep the city running, Vos wouldn’t fall out of the sky anytime soon but the citizens could starve. Sadly, they were wrong about that. Someone poisoned Cybertron’s core, the effect causing the city’s antigravity generators to fail and the city to plummet to the ground. If the rust sea disappeared the very same day then who’s to say one affect the other in any way.

As the city fell, the Seekers grabbed as many of the wingless as they could and fled. Not joining the Decepticons nor the Autobots, simply disappearing from Cybertron as if they didn’t even exist. Which, officially, they didn’t. Not one mech knows just where they disappeared to. Their off-world colonies being kept just as much a secret as the city itself.

To this day, few mechs are aware of Vos or why Megatron seemed to be so despised by the one seeker who was still online under him. The few left from the evacuation found their memories of the city waining, becoming but a nagging thought in the back of their processors. Eventually, even that nagging sensation faded into obscurity, ignored for the much grander objective of finishing the war once and for all.

All was forgotten until one day, a discovery changed everything. Which simply brings the question, why was Vos hidden from grounders and fliers of outside origins?


	2. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl has been fed up with paperwork for a while. However, a new report from the recently created 'Intelligence Division', a division with mechs from both factions with the simple orders of recreating the lost Identification forms of every remaining cybertronian from what was left of the Iacon database, ends up being particularly puzzling. Prowl just really needs a break at this point.

Paperwork, the bane of all officers existence. High ranking, low ranking, it didn’t matter. No mech enjoyed paperwork. Nothing was more boring than sitting at a desk and reading through each and every word of an issue that didn’t affect you in the slightest. Yes, everyone was aware of the villain called Paperwork.

Prowl, the Second in Command and Primary Tactician of the Autobot Army, was no different. Even if I seemed like he might enjoy paperwork, he did not. Sadly, paperwork was a necessary evil in his line of work. Each and every individual word and meaning behind a report could affect a plan, even the commas were taken into consideration. After all, a single comma can change the meaning of an entire sentence so why wouldn’t Prowl consider them?

That being said. Prowl didn’t like paperwork any more than the next mech. His battle computer just made the excess amount of files easier to sift through. To make his situation even worse, Prowl’s jobs as SIC and Primary Tactition gave him the most paperwork out of anyone on base. Said total doesn’t even include the paperwork that he takes from Prime on a daily basis because Primus knows that mech works too much. Then again the same was often said about him. Prowl couldn’t even remember the last time he took an off day, well he could but that wasn’t the point.

All of the above reasons tended to culminate into the biggest processor ache known to Cybertron. If Prowl often spent a good half of his clocked in overtime staring blanking at the ever-growing pile on his desk? Well, no one had to know about that. Despite his frankly drone-like exterior, there was only so much work one mech to take. So it isn’t much of a surprise that Prowl found himself re-reading the same line three time after signing off the nth datapad that day.

Prowl glared over the edge of the datapad, optic barely tightening at the edges. The offending stack of paperwork had to be at least twice the original amount he had when his shift started. Data packets swam before Prowl’s optics as he tried to refocus on the work at servo. A grimace wormed its way unto Prowl’s faceplates before he quickly schooled his expression. Even Prowl’s best poker face couldn’t stop the mild irritation that bled into his optics.

Honestly, these mechs were millions of years old at this point and none of them seemed to have even the slightest grasp of basic grammar. Prowl took a deep invent, trying his hardest not to throw the offending datapad into the nearest incinerator. Funny how he didn’t even need to see who wrote it to know it was Sideswipe. The red Lamborghini twin seemed obsessed with annoying Prowl as much as physically possible. How else would you explain the mech’s misspelling of the word ‘the’? Certainly, no one was  _ that _ glitched to have actually  _ honestly _ misspelled the word ‘the’. Right?

With an exasperated huff, Prowl set Sideswipe’s report to the side. At least he had finished it. Irritated optics drifted back to stacks of paperwork on the other side of his desk. The many, many datapads that still needed to be meticulously read through and signed off on. Prowl adverted his gaze as a ping informed him of some mech standing outside the door to his office.

Prowl straightened his posture, if that was even possible, and quickly emptied his features of any prior emotions. “Come in” Prowl commanded smoothly, voice filling the room. With a soft  _ shhhk _ , the door opened and a nervous looking mech entered the room. It was an orange mech with soft lighter embellishments and lighter armor that automatically ruled out the mech being a warrior. The mech shuffled in, keeping their shy gaze firmly on the floor. No fancy upgrade, no nervous glances, and their lack of self-confidence meant they couldn’t be Spec Ops. If they had been from the science division, Prowl would’ve met them before. Added to that he knew all of the medical staff’s names and faces by spark. Prowl easily concluded this must be a mech from the newly informed ‘Intelligence Division’.

The Intelligence Division, as they were called, was nothing more than a skeleton crew of mech designated with scouring the newly recovered Iacon database and matching names to faces. Basically remaking as many I.D’s as they could from what had survived of the Iacon database. Several of the recover files were corrupted past recovery and an estimated 30% of the database had been destroyed so there were several mechs who only existed within the Autobot and Decepticon databases. Added to the sheer volume of information that was still in the database and the Intelligence Division had been overworked since their formation not 50 years prior, around the same time the remnants of the Iacon database had been recovered.

“State your designation and purpose here” Prowl stated in a monotone. Upon closer inspection, the shy mech of average build was clutching a datapad tightly within their servos. The mech flicked their gaze up before returning it respectfully to the floor. “Datum, sir. A-as for wh-why I’m here.” The end of the orange mech, Datum,’s sentence at a slightly different tilt at the end, making it seem more like a question that a statement. “T-there seems t-to be a, uh, ‘i-issue’ re-regard-regarding a, uh, cer-certain ‘so-someone’” Datum spoke in a voice just barely loud enough to be heard in the already practically dead silent room.

Prowl raised an optic ridge in response. “And who would this ‘someone’ happen to be?” Prowl asked. As he spoke, Prowl realized his cold, even voice combined with his steady and tense gaze probably didn’t do any good for Datum’s nerves. Datum fidgeted in place, took a steadying invent, and stepped further. With both servos, he extended the datapad to Prowl. Prowl’s optics flicked down the datapad as he received it.

“S-Star-Starscream, sir. W-we can’t seem t-to fi-find him” Datum mumbled before quickly averting his gaze. Prowl flicked on the datapad and, instead of finding a request form to search through the Autobot and Decepticon databases, he found an identification form with a startling lack of data on it. There was his designation, well known, and a link to a couple of reports from the Decepticon database but that was it. No serial number, no age, no recorded place of birth, nothing.

Datum spoke quickly before Prowl was able to even ask a question. “W-we al-already go-got perm-permis-permission t-to look throu-through th-the othe-other available, um, databases bu-but this is a-all w-we coul-could, uh, f-find.” Some part of Prowl’s processor pondered what was wrong with Datum’s vocalizer to cause it to glitch as it did, but Prowl didn’t bother asking. Instead, Prowl narrowed his optics at the datapad. “Explain” Prowl commanded, glancing up at Datum.

With surprising swiftness, Datum seemed to go into a ‘professional’ mode, speaking swiftly and promptly with his optics trained firmly on the opposite wall. “After several searches on the Iacon database, my team summarized that Starscream’s files must have been one of the many that were lost when Iacon was destroyed.” The mech straightened his posture and glanced around distractedly. “After following through the appropriate procedures, we gained permission to look through the Decepticon database’s logs to find any reports or medical checkups recorded under the SIC’s designation.” Datum’s fingers started twitching and scraping against the plating they were resting on. “Upon further inspection, it turns out that the Decepticon  _ had no folder _ . Our department head sanctioned a sweep through of the rest of the database, non-classified folders only. Even after our team did a run through of that the links on the datapad in front of you, sir, are the only reports that include the Decepticon SIC’s name that we could find.” After his spiel, Datum let out a hefty ex-vent and almost seemed to visibly deflate, curling back in on himself. “T-that’s i-it sir” Datum finished weakly, glancing at Prowl’s optics before gazing dutifully at the floor.

Prowl took a moment to mull over the information he was just given, corners of his mouth turning down slightly. An itch in the back of his helm was bothering Prowl, as though he was forgetting something very important. Yet for the life of him, Prowl could not remember what. Furthermore, the lack of information on the seeker bothered Prowl. While it was confirmed that Starscream did not possess the capabilities needed to hack the Decepticon’s security, was it possible that someone else had? No, no one liked Starscream. The seeker certainly didn’t make himself very likable. Even in his prime Starscream had scant few allies.

Soundwave was the only mech who could break through the Decepticon’s security system. It was one of the only things the Decepticons had over the Autobots. All information gathered on them was from Ops and menmosurgery on downed soldiers and POWs. However, Prowl knew that it was impossible for Soundwave to have helped Starscream, it was well known the Decepticon TIC did not like his former superior. So why wasn’t Starscream in there?

What was it Prowl was forgetting? Why did Starscream of all people provoke this response? “Dismissed” Prowl sighed, doorwings flicking in irritation. Datum quickly scrambled out of the room, relieved he could go back to work. As soon as the plain metal door closed behind the mech, Prowl leaned back in his chair. The itch in the back of his helm was infuriating. Prowl’s doorwings drooped in confusion, the answer was on the tip of his glossa. Yet, Prowl couldn’t seem to remember. Perhaps he should talk to the seeker? No, Starscream was currently bound and muted in a high-security cell. There was no way Prowl would be speaking to the former Decepticon SIC.

Prowl sighed, just what was he forgetting?


	3. A Different Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz ponders the new development. Starscream frustrates everyone in the background.

Several years after the great war, the Autobot Special Operations Division was often considered obsolete. Considered as nothing more than a glorified security force. Their ‘operations’ reduced to regulating requests to get into the opposing factions’ database and watching over prisoners. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. What else could they do? They were assassins and spies, unnecessary in moments of peace. Or at least, that’s what an uninformed mech would think.

Autobot Special Operations never ‘lost purpose’, they simply switched forces. There were several reasons why no one noticed. First of all, nothing they were doing was very immediately obvious. They weren’t out on the streets clearing debris or rebuilding infrastructure, not many of them were built for that kind of heavy lifting. No one in their right mind would have them running peace talks, that was Prime’s job for one and Special Operations weren’t exactly renowned for their ‘people skills. Not everyone could be like Jazz, although even he lacked the temper for dealing with some mechs.

Instead, they dealt with the ‘Outback’, edges of cyberspace occupied the Decepticon Guerrilla Forces. The DGS, as they were often shortened to, were many small groups of Decepticons that had seemingly refused to accept the war was over. See, what many people don’t seem to get was that a war wasn’t simply ‘over’ when a peace treaty was signed. There will always be people caught up in the fighting or who dislike the way everything turned out. Those who will riot against because they refused to accept it. 

These DGS groups were often noticed raiding outposts on the edges of Autobot territory, killing everyone they could find and taking everything not bolted to the ground, then going back for bolts. They were like mosquitoes, constantly biting at the Autobot forces and generally being as annoying as the pit. However, due to the heavy injuries sustained from some of the DGS groups something had to be done. That’s where the Autobot Special Operations came in.

Missions were organized under the table, Prowl being the only mech outside of Special Operations to be aware of the missions. After all, Prowl was their best tactician and it required very specific skills to keep these missions out of sight from Optimus Prime. Some might have had issues with keeping such a thing secret for their leader but it was a necessity. While their leader was a great mech, his morals often ran opposite to their mission statement. He would not agree with such underhand tactics to deal with the DGS groups, not that he was aware of the DGS at all. So, he was kept in the dark.

It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t quick. The DGS groups were like cockroaches. Just when you thought you had eliminated an infestation, they were quick to prove you wrong. Neither was it as if information on the DGS groups was readily available. Special Operations didn’t let that stop them. After all, it was rather easy for a member of the Autobot Special Operations to simply hack into the DGS member's helm once they were sure they couldn’t run away. Information harvest from the DGS member’s processor was then used to find the next group of pests that needed to be exterminated. Even decades after the Autobot Special Operations began to remove DGS groups there were still stragglers who were either immensely good at hiding or had simply not informed other DGS groups of their existence. The Decepticon scientist Shockwave chief among them. Although, Shockwave wasn’t exactly a DGS member as per definition.

Jazz knew better than anyone else the true nature of the Autobot Special Operations Division. After all, he was still the head of their division. Even if he was technically Second in command of the Autobot Army according to the paperwork. Not that anyone else knew that, except Prowl. Then again, there wasn’t a lot going on in the Autobot army that Prowl wasn’t aware of, it got Jazz quite curious about how he knew.

As the best saboteur around and, technically, former head of Special Operations, Jazz knew everything that went on in the division. He still made the final call on all decisions and decided who went on what mission. Even the current head of Special Operations, a smaller mech named Bond with a specialty in tripwire related traps, delegated almost all of his duties to Jazz. Except for the paperwork, thank Primus. So Bond was more of a glorified secretary in the end. Even then, some paperwork was still given directly to Jazz. Somethings were meant for Jazz’s optics only after all.

It was this unique, precarious, and altogether a rather unknown position of his that informed Jazz near immediately when the search for Starscream turned up nothing. His instincts immediately informing him that that couldn’t have been right. It made no sense. Starscream was hardly secretive and Jazz knew he existed. Even if he often wished the seeker didn’t because Starscream just made everything in a situation worse for everybody. Nobody won when Starscream was there.

Another thing that didn’t make sense was the fact that Jazz had seen Starscream in the database before. Jazz had hacked it once before. Although ‘hack’ wasn’t exactly the word for it, more like ‘A vehicon forgot to turn off the monitor after leaving its station’. But hey, who’s counting. Nevertheless, when Jazz was exploring the Decepticon database, or at least what the drones were allowed to see of it apparently, he saw something about Starscream. Exactly what he saw Jazz could remember, it was in the mission report somewhere though. So Jazz  _ knew _ Starscream was in the Decepticon database. His information was even visible to a Vehicon, and who in their right mind would give a  _ Vehicon _ access to sensitive information of any sort? Yet, if that was true, then why couldn’t they find him now?

Suddenly, a hack that had revealed nothing but embarrassing stories of Starscream's was bearing more seeds than fruit. Questions without answers. It made no sense to the saboteur. Starscream was in no way good enough to hack the Decepticon database, not many could even get past the first few firewalls because Soundwave was just that good. Had the cassette carrier known? Soundwave must’ve known, right? Yet, Soundwave wouldn’t do anything like that, certainly not for Starscream. The Decepticon Third in Command valued information almost as much a Jazz did, he wouldn’t just delete the virtual existence of a mech just like that.

It ground Jazz’s gears to not know these things. He was supposed to be the Autobots best saboteur, a master of sabotage and information gathering for Primus sake! Jazz knew of every embarrassing story, every lie, and every dirty little secret any mech on base ever tried to hide. Yet, he knew next to nothing about Starscream. One would think it impossible for the seeker to hid any sort of secret whatsoever. Everyone knew of Starscream or quickly learned of him because that mech did  _ not _ stay hidden. He was loud, brash, and arrogant. How such a mech became the Second in Command of the Decepticon army was a mystery because Starscream seemed to lack any sort of skill in the ways of Deception or Leadership. Let’s just say many a rumor have spread about how Starscream ‘earned’ his position, although Jazz knew they were false.

To elaborate on what Jazz meant by not knowing anything about Starscream. That wasn’t necessarily true. He knew some things about the seeker. It was hard not to acknowledge some stuff, particularly when it had to do with Starscream. Jazz knew when Starscream was planning yet another assassination attempt on Megatron, he knew when the seeker would appear in battle, and he could rather easily predict his actions. Jazz even prided himself of being one of the few mechs alive who knew of the ‘Incident on Xern-2’. Even though the incident in question was something those who witnessed it would rather forget. Or would rather record, depends on the mech. It really bordered on funny and traumatizing in a way not many things did.

Rather, what Jazz meant was that he had apparently missed something so big. The fact that Starscream didn’t exist in any sort of digital record. Which, again, should’ve been impossible due to Starscream’s lack of any sort of decent hacking ability. At least to Jazz’s knowledge. Then again, Starscream was able to keep such a thing under wraps for basically the entirety of the war. So maybe Jazz wasn’t entirely knowledgeable in the Seeker’s ways. Then again, the one thing Jazz did know was that the seeker wasn’t exactly  _ subtle _ . It didn’t take a genius to know that. Although, it did make Jazz wonder what else he knew of the seeker was false information, which even thinking of annoyed him. Surely not much else, right? Jazz had once prided himself on being able to tell a false informant from a true one.

The corners of Jazz’s mouth started to tug down in something reminiscent of a frown. Such a rare phenomenon for the ever cheerful and self-proclaimed moral officer. Quickly, the saboteur forced his signature ever-present grin on onto his faceplates. Red Alert had once sounded the alarm due to Jazz frowning and the saboteur would rather not have that happen again. Even if it was funny after the fact. At that moment, Jazz decided he had probably been in his office for far too long. Even if Jazz was aware that his shift hadn’t even been a third of the length Prowl’s so far. Then again, the tactician worked far too much than what was probably healthy. 

Even as Jazz sauntered merrily from his office and to the rec room, Starscream remained an ever-present puzzle in the back of his processor. Although a puzzle that seemed to be missing several pieces. Something just didn’t seem right about that seeker. Even if it was useless to ponder such things questions, it didn’t stop him. In the end, no matter how much Jazz wanted answers to his questions, it was impossible. After all, Starscream was currently sitting chained and muzzled in a high-security cell in the brig. At least once all the others were made aware of this development there would be at least some sort of interrogation. It was the little things and the muzzle.

Primus, Jazz had to let out a snort as he remembered the indignant look on Starscream’s faceplates when they first put the thing on him. A quick check showed that no, no one had witnessed Jazz laugh at absolutely nothing. That wouldn’t be too good for his reputation. Or maybe he could pull a ‘fake comm-line’ lie again. Probably, yeah. In regards to the muzzle, however, it was necessary. Funny, but necessary. Turns out having a ‘silver-tongued’ seeker chained up and constantly watched by his mortal enemies didn’t yield good results. Starscream constantly belittled and angered his watchers. Apparently, he found it funny when they would ‘overreacted’ at his taunts.

In the time Starscream had been without a muzzle he had made Bluestreak cry, thrown the Lamborghini twins into a flat out blind rage, caused a sweet mech from tactical called Switch to be pushed into blowing up at anyone who so much as looked at his wrong, pushed Ironhide to destroy several walls after watching him, and made just about every guard he ever have rebel and just straight up refuse to do their shift. As in they literally said ‘no’. Once, when Prowl tried to force one to do their watch shift of his cell, the mech in question slammed the door in Prowl’s face before he could finish saying Starscream’s name. That seeker was infuriating and he seemed to be aware of that. It was almost as if he was purposefully doing it. Then again, it was Starscream. Even with the muzzle, a guard shift with Starscream was considered a punishment to most mechs on base. Some mechs even tried to petition the shift to be added to a list of punishments that were ‘too cruel for the Autobots’. Which was almost funny.

Jazz paused in his journey to greet a couple of Ops members he remembered being on the latest DGS mission. One of which was, to his knowledge, Starscream’s current guard. He had definitely just finished his shift, Jazz could tell. Static was the mech in question. A little green and yellow mech who was wonderful at sneaking into places he shouldn’t be. He was also extremely patient, as in nearly a saint-like patience. Thinking back to that near constant level headed mech and looking at the one in front of him, Jazz almost didn’t recognize the mech. Static was so wound up that Jazz thought he would snap. Static's servos were curled tightly into fists and his jaw was set, teeth grinding together almost audibly. It honestly looked like he was ready to throw down with the next mech to do so much as look at him oddly.

Shiver stood next to Static, trying desperately to calm his conjux. The dark golden mech was known for having a motherly attitude towards everyone and being able to pretend to be anyone without fail. Shiver’s Decepticon alias was one of the few that had stuck around the longest without anyone noticing. It was an impressive feat considering, you know, Soundwave and all. He also had a wonderful record of completely mission objectives exactly as expected. Shiver’s current ‘mission’ of calming down Static, however? That didn’t seem to be going to well. 

The two looked up as Jazz let out a whistle. “Tha’ bad huh?”, A smile and flashing visor in his form of a ‘wink’ seemed to cool Static off slightly. Probably recognizing Jazz’s signature girn for the invitation it was. Which meant he immediately went off on a rant Ratchet would be proud of. Jazz reacted as necessary and played his unofficial role of the moral officer to the ‘T’. Not that he was technically listening whatsoever. Well, he was, but Jazz had found himself unable to keep up after five minutes. It was like Static was trying to outdo bother Blurr and Bluestreak as the fastest talkers in the Autobot army at the same time. Shiver just looked bored, like he had already heard his rant multiple times. Which he probably had. 

“And if he’s not doing any -bzzt- that then he’s just sittin’ -bzzt- staring at me! -bzzt- muzzled but I can -bzzt- hear his still horrible screechy voice! He muzzled! -bzzt- I can still hear him Jazz! He’s in my head!” Static was leaning in dramatically as he finished, voice an almost desperate whisper. Not even his vocalizer glitch, which Jazz still wondered how no one had caught that in his development stages, stopped the Ops mech from finishing his rant. Jazz had to admit one thing though. That was certainly quite some dedication. Also, the longest Static had ever talked before. Shiver just muttered quietly in his conjux’s audial, rubbing soothingly between Static’s shoulder blades.

With a sympathetic wince, Jazz replied: “Yea’ tha certain’ly sounds rough.” Jazz glanced at Shiver, “Ya takin’ a ‘break’ then?” A wink, a grin, and a bright blush spread down Shiver’s neck. Static still seemed oblivious to the world as he seethed in place. Almost literally steaming. Shiver seemed to stammer a bit before he took a breath and said: “I’m taking him to the other training room to blow off some, ah, steam.” The two mechs met eyes over Static’s helm. Then Jazz understood. Then Shiver understood that Jazz understood.

“‘Ave fun you two, ah’ll leave ya to it!” Jazz chirped cheerfully, grin widening as Shiver took Static’s arm and pulled him down the corridor. It was impressive though. Jazz didn’t know Static could get so wound up, so props to Starscream. It also made Jazz wonder how any mech could be so annoying. It was honestly shocking how frustrating the seeker could be at times. Starscream had to be doing it on purpose. No one mech could be naturally so infuriating. Then again, it was Starscream.

The door to the rec room opened automatically as he approached it. A slight ‘shhhk’ sound filling the air. The noise quickly enveloped the mech as he walked into the rec room, many mechs greeting him as friends. It was as loud as it usually was and Jazz took the noise in stride, even if it did strain his ever-so-sensitive hearing, he was used to it. Jazz just focused on replying to each one merrily. Joking and making dramatic gestures, pulling laughs from the relaxing mechs. His cherry grin never dropping from his faceplates as he made his way to the energon dispenser. A quick scan of the room as he was walking showed that Prowl was not there, still likely in his office.

Jazz felt a soft pang but dismissed it. Unsure of what it was for and not wanting to worry about it. He just focused on anyone else. Any lingering thoughts of Prowl or Starscream retreating to his subroutines. He would talk about that with Prowl and Prime later. A meeting would most likely be called when they found out. Probably just between the three of them because the general populace didn’t need to be aware of any of that. The current rumors of the seeker were bad enough. No need to foster new ones.

Still, even as Jazz tried his best to distract himself. Something kept nagging at the back of his processors. Trying desperately to connect loose threads. Just what had he missed?


	4. Notice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry folks!

So, to make a long story short. I don't like the way this story is going.

It may not seem like it to any of you reading this but I have essentially written myself into a corner because I simply can't see a way to continue from here.

**THAT BEING SAID,**

I  _am_ going to rewrite this -one gruesomely long chapter at a time because the current ones are too short for my taste- and the new one shall be up eventually. So, if anyone actually likes this, which I doubt for some reason, keep a look out for that in the future!

Hope you stick around!<3


	5. Update!

The first chapter of the new Flying City is up to be read!

If anyone is still interested in this that is...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20797520/chapters/49429583


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